


Letting Go and Moving On

by Alchemist14



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-10-14 13:58:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10537929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alchemist14/pseuds/Alchemist14
Summary: Aramis is suffering from PTSD after a terrible experience, it all comes to a head when he feels that he can't cope with life anymore. He is interrupted during his suicide attempt and finds a whole new way of living.





	1. Failed Again

**Author's Note:**

> Just a new story idea that struck me, haven’t had a chance to edit it or have it betaed so please forgive any mistakes :D

His hands were freezing.

What a stupid thought to have running through your head when you were about to… no.

Don’t think about that.

Of course it would be cold, barely even six o’clock in the morning in February (he hadn’t wanted to expose too many people to it), and a particularly nippy one at that. Also – well, standing on the roof of a building is bound to be cold no matter what the weather.

His whole body trembled as a violent shiver wound its way through him.

Truth be told it wasn’t the weather at fault here, it was all him, petrified at the thought of what he was about to do. He wasn’t an idiot, he had seen the movies, watched the tv shows, he knew what it looked like when someone jumped from a roof. Knew what the velocity and the cold hard ground could do to a human’s body and it terrified him.

It wasn’t the pain, no he was used to that.

It wasn’t the blood, goodness knows he’d seen enough of it in his, admittedly short, lifetime.

It was the uncertainty of what would come after he hit the ground. He knew he couldn’t cope with life anymore, not after ‘ _it_ ’ had happened, he couldn’t face going to sleep and reliving the nightmare all over again, but he equally couldn’t face opening his eyes and reliving it during the day.

There was no escape.

He had to get away.

The thought plagued him though, what if it didn’t get better? What if he was such a terrible person that he would be condemned to hell and doomed to relive it for the rest of eternity?

He shivered again, more violently this time.

He should have died, not them.

Slowly, one by one he uncurled his frozen fingers from their deathlike grip upon the metal safety railings and threw one leg over. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath before bringing the other over to join it. Now there were mere inches between him and empty space and he reclaimed his grip on the bar, heart pounding in his throat, cold sweat prickling on his chest and an awful sick feeling in his stomach.

Inch by inch he leant forward to peer over the edge at the ground far below, gulping as he took in the concrete pavement lined by bollards and trees and other hazardous, painful looking objects. Images of his own crumpled body lying splayed on the ground in a puddle of crimson blood flashed before his eyes.

“Aramis” came a ghastly gurgling voice from behind him, “why did you let us die Aramis?” he didn’t need to turn to know what he would see, because their faces were engraved in his mind for all eternity.

“I’m sorry” he gasped thickly “I’m so sorry.”

Calmly he allowed his eyes to slide closed, took a deep, fortifying breath and slowly loosened his grip, allowing his body to tilt forwards weightlessly into the empty air.

“DON’T DO THIS!”

He startled badly at the sudden and unexpected shout, foot slipping off the edge and arms wind milling wildly as he tried to regain his balance and turn so he could cling to the railings. A breathless gasp escaped his lips as his heart began to beat even faster, terror wrapping its way round his chest and pressing the air from his lungs.

The next second a large, warm hand wrapped its way around his arm and another gripped his waist. A feeling of weightlessness encompassed him as he was bodily lifted over the guard barrier by this unknown man, and before he knew it he had been laid gently on the cold concrete surface of the roof where he lay there in a dream.

Tears streamed unchecked from his eyes and down his cheeks, dampening the ground and creating little circles of darkness on the floor.

“Jesus Christ” a gruff voice growled from the area near to his knees where he could feel a wonderful warmth spreading from the hand that rested on his shin “what the bloody hell were you thinking?!”

Aramis didn’t answer, lifting an arm and draping it across his eyes, lamenting the fact that he had failed once again in fulfilling a promise he had made.

“Mate, are you alright?” the warm, smooth voice came again, this time from somewhere close to his left ear, “talk to me”

He slowly blinked open tearful eyes and his vision was filled with the vision of a dark skinned man, tightly wound curly hair and dimples deep in his cheeks from where he was smiling gently down at him. The most striking feature was the warm hazelnut eyes which were gazing down at him with such a saddened compassion that it made him want to cry again.

“I’m fine” he rasped quietly in response, pushing himself up into a sitting position and letting his head be cradled in his hands.

“Hey” the man soothed, “it can’t be all that bad”

Aramis laughed wetly, “You have no idea”

The hand stroked gently over his head of chaotic curls, almost as if he were stroking a kitten of some kind and it was a comfort that he had missed with all of his being since… no those thoughts were off limits, stupid Aramis!

“Yeah you’re right, that was a stupid thing to say” the stranger gave an embarrassed chuckle and looked a little sheepish at having put his foot in it like that, “I’m Porthos by the way”

“Aramis”

“So do you wanna talk about it?” he questioned gently, manoeuvring his bulk to sit practically plastered to Aramis’ side, “because you know that what you were doin, that’s never going to fix anything. I had a friend who tried to do the same thing, thought life weren’t worth livin after everythin he’d been through, then we talked about it and he’s doing much better now.”

“Much better how?”

“Well he’s down to only getting blind drunk as opposed to assfaced” he grinned mischievously with a cheeky wink “ that’s a step in the right direction”

Aramis huffed out a helpless little laugh, relaxing slightly at this man’s alternative sense of humour, who would think of making jokes like that to a suicidal man?

“Come on then” the words startled Aramis out of his reverie almost as much as the other man’s sudden movement, pushing himself to his feet and towering over the smaller man who wondered if this was how the Lilliputians felt when they met Gulliver.

“Come on then what?” he asked bemused, tear tracks drying on his cheeks and tightening the skin in a peculiar manner that he could feel whenever he spoke, skin stretching and pulling strangely with his words.

“You’re gonna come home with me”

 Porthos said it so simply, as if it was a given and he would be a complete lunatic to even think that saying no would be an option, that saying no would be even stranger than following a stranger back to his house. A stranger who had literally just pulled him off the edge of a precipice.

“Meet Athos and have a warm meal”

Aramis just sat and stared blankly up at this saint like apparition of a man.

Porthos smiled gently down at him “I can hardly just leave you alone here can I, not after only having narrowly stopped you this time”

“Why did you?”

The soft whisper cut through the strangely jovial atmosphere like a knife, and Aramis cringed slightly at the shocked and upset silence that emanated from the other man.

“I stopped you” Porthos murmured softly “because I couldn’t bear to see you waste your life in such a way, not when I’ve had experience with what drives a man to their last resort like that, not when I could do something about it. I was walking past and I saw you up there and you had this air of such terrible sadness that I couldn’t just walk on by, I wanted to stop you, to hold you and make that distance in your eyes fade away.  Don’t that sound stupid eh” he chuckled lowly.

“No, it doesn’t” Aramis responded, “but you can’t help me, I’m beyond help. Believe me people have tried, _I’ve_ tried”

“Well, just let me try”

With a nod of his head Aramis pushed himself to stand next to the giant, swaying slightly with the sudden change in altitude, those hands returning to steady him. His hands curled into tight fists, gripping the fabric of the front of Porthos’ shirt tightly, clinging to him as they stood there motionless for a few moments.

Somehow the next Aramis was aware; he was sitting in a taxi. Head pillowed on Porthos’ chest with a broad arm wrapped around his shoulders and keeping him pressed tightly to his side, not that he would complain since it was ridiculously comfortable. It briefly crossed his mind that he should be more than a little alarmed about this since he was essentially being kidnapped, but the warmth of the other man beside him was just too enticing and he allowed his eyes to slowly slide shut.

Porthos gently nudged him awake once the taxi had come to a gentle stop at the kerb outside his and Athos’ townhouse, pulling him out of the vehicle and propping him up on the nearest lamppost while he tipped the driver.

“Woah, I gave you the post as something to lean on, not so you could lean the other way and face plant yourself on the concrete”

Aramis rubbed sleepily at his tired, burning eyes, allowing this beautiful stranger to drag him up the deep stone steps that led them to a cherry red door with a brass lion doorknocker. The door opened up to reveal a cosy hallway, a low wooden table to the right held a ceramic hand that the owner’s keys had been thrown unceremoniously in, to the left there was an old fashioned hat and coat stand with a battered brown leather jacket hanging off it. Porthos shrugged off his own felt coat and hung it next to the jacket with a fond sigh, bending to line up the boots that had been kicked off and left before stripping Aramis of his coat and hanging that up to.

The corridor in front of them was long and lined with family photos, faces grinning happily out of frames, and Porthos led them carefully down it and through the last door on the right. Barely pausing, he carried on his way, ignoring the other man that was currently occupying the kitchen and placing the kettle carefully on the stove.

“Athos, I didn’t think you’d still be home” Porthos finally turned to address his flatmate, tutting at the bare feet and low v necked shirt that he was sporting in the middle of winter.

A well groomed eyebrow was raised at him in amusement “I didn’t expect _you_ to be back home. Didn’t you leave for work over an hour ago?”

“Yeah… about that” he chuckled guiltily, rubbing a hand sheepishly over the back of his head and gesturing with the other to Aramis who was still standing dumbly in the doorway. Not having moved or even blinked really since Porthos had let him go.

“Why is there a strange man standing in our kitchen Porthos, we already had this conversation, no more strays!”

“He’s a little more than a stray Athos”

Aramis felt a faint streak of irritation rush through him as they stood, heads tilted towards each other and held a hushed conversation about him, while he was standing right there. It should aggravate him more he knew, but he simply didn’t have the energy to do anything about it, already the floor was looking like a pretty appealing place to simply lie down and sleep.

“He… Kill imself Athos”

Words floated over to him as he stood there in a daze, and as he registered the taboo topic, he found himself speared with the gaze of the giants’ dwarfish flatmate. Ice blue eyes blown wide with surprise surveyed him, narrowing slightly as they went before locking with his own chocolate coloured ones and seeming to stare right into the very depths of his soul.

“Here” Porthos murmured quietly, pressing a warm mug into his trembling hands (when had they started trembling?) and the heady aroma of hot chocolate floated up to greet him.

In unspoken agreement, the three men settled themselves comfortably in the armchairs that were placed strategically around a low coffee table for circumstances such as these. Aramis focussed his attention determinedly on his drink, anything to avoid holding that intense gaze and having any of his secrets read although he had a feeling that Porthos would drag them out of him soon anyway. A warm weight settled around his shoulders and he looked up into another one of those adorable smiles of Porthos’, cheeks dimpling cheerfully as he settled the blanket around Aramis and squeezed his shoulders gently.

“Now” he began jovially, “if you’re anything like Athos ere, you’re going to be a grumpy little bastard about everythin. Growling an snarling an just generally doin anything to avoid answerin my questions, isn’t that right Athos”

The other man gave a long suffering sigh and rolled his eyes at his friend but made no comment.

“So, are you going to pull an Athos or be a darling and answer my questions?”

“Umm” Aramis was not entirely sure how to answer this question for he had a feeling he would fall somewhere between the two extremes. “I don’t know _why_ I am agreeing to this” he exclaimed incredulously “but I’ll answer your questions but I reserve the right to refuse at any point”

An enormous grin spread over Porthos’ face, and damnit he hadn’t thought it was possible for him to look even happier but he’d done it.

“Okay so let’s start with a hard one, what was so awful that suicide seemed to be the answer to you?”

Despite knowing it was coming, the question still hit him like a kick to the gut, ice spreading through his insides as his mind fell into a spiral of despairing thoughts. With a quick pinch to the thigh, he pulled himself back to the present, having become quite adept at dispensing with these episodes.

“I… I-I don’t k-k-know if I c-c-can t-t-tell you” his words caught in his throat and it took a great deal of effort to force them from his mouth, “I-I’ll try but I’ve never….”

“Take your time” surprisingly it was Athos who spoke this time, tone as gentle as it had been sarcastic beforehand, “we have nowhere to be and if anyone can understand how difficult it is to talk about these things it’s me.”

“Oh yeah, Porthos said” Aramis blurted out “you see, the thing is… they a-a-all died”

That was all he could manage for a good while, but the other two just sat there in companionable silence, sipping their drinks and managing to not look expectant as they waited for him to continue.

“I was a soldier” his voice was stronger now “I was a good one, good at what I did and I fought to make the world a better place” the floodgates had opened “my speciality was sniping, no one could hit a target from as far away as I could, no one could be as accurate as I could” there was a hint of pride in his voice then “eventually the superiors took notice and my commanding officer, Treville, promoted me” the pride was overtaken by bitterness “I was in charge of that squadron of men, I was running that training exercise, codenamed SAVOY”

Here he broke off to take in a few gulping breaths, surprised to find that tears of frustration, of anger, of betrayal were streaming down his face, but he saw nothing but calm acceptance from the men before him.

“I- I- I can’t, I just c-c-can’t” it was too much, too soon. He had never even thought about the mission within the privacy of his own head, let alone telling someone else all about it.

“That’s alright” Porthos soothed again and Aramis began to wonder if he was capable of any other tone of voice or if he was just that ridiculously comforting all the time. “I’m knackered anyway; I think it’s time we all went to bed anyway”

“I’ll just get a taxi” Aramis mumbled as he began to make his way back towards the vibrant front door that they had entered through what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“You will do no such thing!”

Oh so he was capable of another tone, scandalised was a new one on him and it actually managed to bring a small smile to his lips.

“You are going to come upstairs with us, borrow a pair of Athos’ ridiculously comfortable flannel pyjamas and sleep on the fold out camp bed that we always bring out for when D’artagnan stays over. Then in the morning I’m going to cook you breakfast and we are going to sit and talk some more over pancakes, understood?”

Aramis could do nothing more than nod, dumbfounded, and again allow himself to be tugged around by the dictator disguised as a cheerful, easy going man mountain.

Five minutes later and he was standing in front of a mirror and frowning down at himself, despite the fact that Athos was only slightly bigger than him, he was entirely dwarfed by the pyjamas.

The sleeves hung down past fingertips, the material was constantly slipping down off his shoulder and he had to knot the strings on the waistband about five times before they stopped hanging off his hips. They were wonderfully soft though, it was like being wrapped up in a hug from your grandmother permanently, or hugging a teddy bear.

He blew a wayward curl off his forehead were it was tickling uncomfortably, and jumped when he noticed Athos lurking in the doorway behind him, arms folded and shoulder pressing against the doorjamb.

“You look ridiculously adorable” Athos drawled, lip twitching at the corner “I hadn’t realised quite how tiny you were until now”

“I am not tiny!” he cried in indignation

“He’s kinda like a kitten when e’s all riled up, teeth and claws flying but just tickling your ankles” Porthos chuckled as he joined Athos in the doorway.

“I’m not that small! I just have delicate bones!” Aramis wailed.

“Alright munchkin, time for bed”

The three of them made their way into the main bedroom, where the extent of Athos ridiculous amount of money was evident in the Queen sized bed that was big enough for about five people, which dominated the middle of the room. It also made the absence of the promised camp bed all the more conspicuous.

“Where am I going to be sleeping?” Aramis asked in confusion “I thought there was a spare bed?”

“Yeah about that” Porthos laughed “D’artagnan might have broken it the last time he was here, we might have forgotten to get it fixed and so you might actually have to share with us. As long as that’s okay with you?”

By this point Porthos and Aramis had climbed into bed and were looking at Aramis expectantly as he slowly made his way around to perch awkwardly on the edge beside Porthos.

A yelp of surprise was dragged from his lips as a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him down into the bed, strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him flush against a warm chest.

“There, now isn’t that better” Porthos murmured against his neck, breath ghosting across his skin and tickling terribly.

The thing was Aramis couldn’t deny that yes, it was better. He was feeling the safest, warmest and most comfortable that he had in a long, long while. Even though he had only met these men a handful of hours ago, he felt as if he could let all his guards, all his defences drop and that maybe, just maybe everything would be alright again.


	2. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you guys seemed to enjoy that so here’s another chapter for you :D

Warmth.

That was the first thing that registered in his mind as he floated towards consciousness. It struck him as odd, he wasn’t used to being warm. He couldn’t quite remember the last time that warmth had been a sensation he had felt, he was permanently cold nowadays ever since…. Again no. Don’t think about that!

So, going back to the warmth.

He wondered what exactly it was that was creating this warmth, he lived alone in a shitty one bedroom apartment with holey bed sheets, broken heating and draughty windows. The boiler looked like it was from the Bronze Age, and during the winter it made noises like a dying cat and seemed to pump out cold air rather than hot. Last year he had gone to all the charity shops in a ten mile radius and bought so many fluffy jumpers in an attempt to conserve heat that he had looked obese on more than one occasion.

Again why was he warm?

The last thing he remembered was pulling on some mismatched, rather raggedy clothes in the morning and heading out to try and… oh yeah.

Blinking his eyes open slowly, he frowned as he encountered masses of curly black hair and felt a warm weight on his waist. That was not supposed to be there, he lived alone.

Wait. He lived alone!

With a yelp of shock he scrambled in a panic out of the amazingly large and incredibly soft bed that he had somehow found himself in. He managed to catch himself on his hands and knees before his face met the carpet and he found himself with a bright red carpet burn to the face, which was reminiscent of his university days.

“Wazzit, whu, huh?” indiscernible mumbling fell from Porthos’ lips as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and gazed down at the man lying on the ground.

Aramis rolled himself over to stare back up at him, mouth hanging open in shock as he desperately tried to remember how exactly he had ended up in this strange person’s bed. When another man sat up in the bed, rubbing a hand over his tired face, Aramis’ mouth fell open even further and the mystery simply deepened.

“Who are you and why am I here?” Aramis squeaked in wonderment, scrambling slightly further away as the first man swung his legs over the side of the bed and made to stand up.

“Do you not remember?”

“Last thing I remember was standing on the edge of the building, it was cold and I was thinking about what would happen afterwards and then… someone stopped me” Aramis mused.

“That would have been me” Porthos muttered as he made his way to the wardrobe to drag out one of his fluffy dressing gowns and glancing back at Aramis, pulled out another one and dropped it on his head. “Now put that on and come out into the kitchen for those pancakes I promised you, and stop stressing”

Then he just walked out, just walked out without another word.

“Sorry about him” the other man said as he scrubbed a hand through his hair “he’s a bit of a motherer, once you’ve spent a little time with him you get used to it.”

“How can I get used to this? I don’t even know you and yet I’ve spent the night in a bed with you and now I’m about to have breakfast with you!” part way through his speech he began to sound a little bit hysterical, clenching his fist slightly and pounding the floor halfway through.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s done this a couple of times but usually he doesn’t make them breakfast. He just takes them down to the nearest help centre and delivers them to Charon, his friend to take the next step. He must see something in you, so I know that it seems really scary and strange at this moment but give it a chance and you’ll find you couldn’t have a better friend”

Aramis simply stared at the aristocratic man for a moment and then shook his head “I imagine that was the longest you’ve spoken for a long while. You went a little bit croaky at the end there”

Athos snorted and extended a hand to pull Aramis up from his seated position on the floor, “we had better make our way into the kitchen before Porthos comes back in here and uses his fireman lift on us.”

“Finally, you two finished chatting away like schoolgirls in there” Porthos teased cheerily as he set a plate of steaming pancakes on the kitchen countertop.

Athos and Aramis slid onto two high chairs opposite him and Athos smirked slightly as he poured himself a mug of steaming black coffee.

“We couldn’t let you stand out here all alone, that would just be cruel” he teased gently.

“So” Aramis began, “since I actually have no idea who you are, maybe you could tell me a little bit about yourselves. Like what your occupation is maybe?”

Porthos chuckled warmly and sat down opposite them with his own plate, “well I’m sure Athos already hinted at what I do, he’s forever warning people that I’m going to pick them up and throw them over my shoulders.”

“So you’re a fireman then?”

“Yep, started working straight after I finished school. I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life since I was ten when a fire-fighter called Treville saved my life from my burning foster home”

Athos rolled his eyes, “he has always been infuriatingly altruistic”

“Oh I’m the altruistic one am I?” Porthos shot back.

“Okay just because I write books meant to help people and then donate my proceeds does not make me altruistic. If anything I’m a little narcissistic.”

Aramis found himself laughing helplessly at their good natured bickering, it reminded him fiercely of himself and Marsac back in the day when they were living in simpler times.

“So now you know what we do, what about you then?”

Startled Aramis didn’t respond for a moment, “I used to be a medic in the army, and I worked as a nurse for a while after I was discharged but I quit, and recently I started volunteering in the local library.”

“Ah a man of many talents I see” Porthos smiled, glossing over the hitch in his tone when he had been talking about his past occupations and drawing him into a conversation about books.

“Actually” Athos began “my friend Ninon owns a private library, it has quite the extensive collection of books and you could meet Treville as well. He always escapes there when his paperwork is getting g overwhelming, which is always”

“Surprisingly, that sounds very nice” Aramis found himself smiling contentedly at the feeling of easy camaraderie in the room, and looking forward to meeting strange people when before the idea had filled him with terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a little bit of a filler chapter, next time Aramis meets some new people and we’ll just see how well that goes! Stay tuned :D


	3. Treville?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it was brought to my attention that the whole Treville thing doesn’t make much sense in the first two chapters! Sorry about that, hopefully this chapter will sort all of that out :D

Halfway down the stairs in the luxurious house, Aramis came to a sudden halt. He had been silently accepting when the man mountain that was Porthos had forced him upstairs and bundled him into a surprisingly comfortable blue cashmere sweater, a pair of black chinos and some black boots. It had been slightly vindicating to know that Athos was the same size as he was so he wouldn’t be the only one around here dubbed tiny.

Now it suddenly dawned upon him that this entire situation was absolutely mental, and what on earth was he thinking of, going with strangers into a strange house!

“What’s wrong?” Athos asked as he teetered on the edge of a step above Aramis, having come to an abrupt halt so he didn’t smack into the other man and send him careening down the stairs and onto the marble flooring below. That would have been deadly.

“What’s wrong, what’s wrong! I have finally come to my senses, what if you were secretly mass murderers and I’ve just willingly walked into your house and now you’re going to cut me up and bake me in pies!” he cried, waving his hands dramatically through the air.

“Well that would be counter intuitive wouldn’t it” Porthos rumbled from further up the stairs, “why would I have stopped you from killin yourself if I wanted you dead anyway?”

“Well maybe you didn’t want to lose out on the fun of doing it yourself, you know, snapping bones and such”

“Just because I have big hands doesn’t mean I want to go around pullin people apart” he sounded slightly offended at that, having had too many people assume things about his size to let the comment wash over him.

At this point Athos butted in, disrupting the staring match between the other two. “Besides do either of us look like Johnny Depp or Helena Bonham Carter?”

Aramis slowly looked them up and down “You wish you did”

Porthos snorted with laughter and it proved contagious, as soon all three of them were laughing loudly, finally making their way down into the hallway of the house.

“So are you satisfied that we aren’t cannibals or murderers now?” Athos asked wryly.

“No, but I’ve decided that either way I like you. Besides it would be bit hypocritical of me to judge you if you did want to kill me, considering I did try to kill myself. Hell I should welcome the assistance”

Deciding that enough was enough; Porthos grabbed his door keys and car keys from the holder and herded the other two out the door and into the wan winter sun that was bravely trying to warm the pavements. “No one will be killing anyone but we will be having pies. That I can deliver on, Flea makes a mean chocolate cream.”

A sultry moan that should not have come from Athos dropped from his lips at the thought of said chocolate cream, one that made Aramis stare unabashedly at this contradiction of a man. Blue eyes slid open at the scrutiny and he shrugged calmly, “what can I say? I like chocolate”

“Get in the car both of you” Porthos rolled his eyes as he clambered into the driver’s seat of his beloved, banged up old Bentley continental that had cost him a small fortune but was well worth it, immediately taking up position as his most prized possession.

Aramis sank blissfully into the soft butter like leather of the classic cars interior, marvelling at the mint condition car. They don’t make them like this anymore. A great roaring filled his ears as Porthos turned the key and kicked the engine into gear, vibrating through the seats and filling his chest with its rumbling. It soon settled down into a contented little hum as the car found its rhythm and Porthos pulled expertly away from the kerb and manoeuvred down the road.

Barely five minutes later and Porthos was pulling smartly into an empty space outside of an imposing red brick building, that was decorated with marble features and a small gargoyle hidden right at the top right hand corner of the roof. As he climbed out of the car Aramis squinted up, trying to decipher what exactly it was.

“It’s a stone dragon” Athos explained, noting what exactly had caught their newest acquaintance’s attention “Ninon is a little…”

“Strange” Porthos supplied cheerily.

“A little eccentric” Athos corrected with a glare “she believes that the dragon will ward away any distasteful people that should wish to enter her library”

“I see” Aramis murmured as they slowly climbed the steps, glorying in the warmth that was pumping through the building from the massive heaters that lined the walls.

A glamorous blonde woman was stood behind the counter, blue eyes narrowed on a ledger she was scribbling in. A strand of hair had slipped out of the tightly coiled bun atop her head, forcing her to keep tucking it behind her ear in frustration.  Without even looking up she addressed them calmly, “Athos what are you doing here? I hope you have that Hemingway I lent you the other week or you won’t be stepping through those doors!” She looked up with a grin and was surprised to find another person accompanying her two favourite customers.

“Of course not, I do have a job to do” Athos exclaimed “I can hardly fit in the work I have to do, let alone reading for pleasure”

“Fine, fine you heathen. Who’s the handsome new one?”

“I’m Aramis” he answered with a small wave, slightly intimidated by this imperious woman who was so well put together.

“Nice to meet you” she smiled cheerily, “talk to me anytime if you’re looking for an Austen or Shakespeare for some light reading. Oh an Athos, Treville is upstairs overworking himself again, you might want to sort that out.”

Athos sighed, shoulders dropping in exasperation and shaking his head. It seemed like every other week he was having to shovel Treville’s sorry ass off the library floor, the man elbow deep in paperwork and floundering under the pressure heaped upon him. The stubborn man refused to accept any help whatsoever and ended up burning himself out, leaving himself and Porthos to pick up the pieces and force him to take a break. It helped that they were essentially sons to him, they could bully him into doing what they wanted.

He turned to the others and jerked his head to the left, turning that way and heading up the stairs. “Come on, we have a workaholic to stop before he ends up destroying himself again”

Jean Treville hated paperwork.

No, that wasn’t right, he loathed it. He despised it from the bottom of his heart. If he could get away with setting it on fire, in a controlled and safe manner, he would without a moment’s hesitation.

His hand was cramping terribly and he shook it out vigorously, swearing softly at the shooting pains down his fingers as he flexed them.

“Shit” he swore again as his unruly fingers tipped over the glass bottle that held his ink, ruining at least half of the paperwork he had managed to complete today.

A sharp knock sounded at the door and he just resisted the urge to swear once more, he knew that knock. “Come in Athos, you too Porthos”

He glanced up briefly as the door creaked open to admit the usual suspects, Athos slinking in with his usual disobey me and die glare and Porthos was following closely behind with his usual shit eating grin. He had to do a double take this time however as another man filed in behind them, looking a little nervous and dare he say it, confused.

He also looked slightly familiar.

“Captain… Jean” Athos began warningly, taking another step into the study.

“Yes, Yes I know Athos. Put that pen down now or I’ll make you, and you won’t like it, etc etc”

“Well I wouldn’t say I’d put it exactly like that, but essentially yes”

“I was about to stop anyway, I ruined paperwork so I’m calling it a day” he sighed as he pushed his chair back from the table and observed his boys over steepled fingers. “What brought you all here, I thought it was a no go zone since Porthos dropped curry sauce on the carpet”

Porthos flushed sheepishly and flapped his hands urgently “Shh, I think she forgot about that Captain. Don’t drop me in it again, me ears have only just stopped ringing”

The new man giggled softly from where he was stood, pressed quite close to Athos’ side which was startling to say the least. Treville could count on one hand the number of people Athos allowed that close and still have at least a thumb left over. It stung slightly that this was obviously someone whom the boys had taken under their wing, and they hadn’t thought to let him know about it. It didn’t even cross his mind that they hadn’t yet had a chance to for the idea that they had only known this man for a day and yet were this close was preposterous.

Preposterous but true, as he was about to find out.

He narrowed his eyes at the new man and slowly but surely took him all in, he was one of those aggravatingly skinny people who looked both unhealthy but also like it could be his natural frame all at the same time and so one was stuck between wanting to feed him and being irrationally jealous. Despite being pale, his skin had an olive tint to it that spoke of Mediterranean decent and from the thick, dark curly hair and the warm eyes he would be willing to bet on Spanish being in there somewhere. He was wearing some of Athos’ clothes, Treville recognised that sweater, having bought it himself the Christmas previously as a gift and he reluctantly admitted that they suited him pretty well.

The man noticed the intense scrutiny he was under and flushed lightly, stepping a little closer to Athos, curling his fingers around the baggy end of his shirt sleeve and ducking his head to avoid meeting those steely grey eyes that seemed to be looking straight into his soul. A slight tremble went through his body as it reminded him of the stares he got when he had come back, the only survivor and the stares he gets on a regular basis from those who wondered why he didn’t work, or why he was so often staring into space and jumping at shadows in a book store.

Athos fixed Treville with a glare when he felt the tremor and wrapped a comforting arm around the smaller man that seemed to be trying to become one with him through some sort of osmosis.

Treville sighed and dragged his eyes away from the disturbingly familiar young man and rolled his eyes at Porthos “so you took in another one I see, where did you find him this time? And why didn’t you drop him off with Charon on your way here?”

“This one’s different Captain, he wasn’t just someone I found off the streets who’d fallen on bad times, he was trying to kill himself!”

“Hey!” Aramis protested “don’t tell my life story to everyone!”

“I see” Treville hummed, fiddling with some of the letters lying on his desk “that’s a very serious action to be taking now son, i’m glad Porthos here stopped you although I am quite confused as to why he brought you here”

“I have to say that I am as well sir” Aramis replied, dragging a hand through his unruly mass of curls.

Sharp blue eyes honed in on the long, thin silvery scar that ran along the young man’s hairline, one that reminded him very much so of another young man he had once known.

_Treville was crouched behind the ruins of a building, bullets flying overhead across the great expanse of sand, one arm looped over his head to keep it below the line of fire. The sound of an explosion echoed through the air and the ground shook with the force of it, clouds of dust rising above the horizon and obscuring any visibility. Peeking his head up briefly, returning fire and gesturing for his team of men to advance further towards the enemy stronghold, fifteen men having holed themselves up in a house up ahead._

_With a hand gesture, his men split into two groups and crept up to the front of the house, crouching below the windows on either side of the door and Treville himself approached the door itself. “Let my men go and we will spare you” he called through the wood, ducking down as another spray of bullets flew from the building._

_“I’ll take that as a no” he grumble, flicking two fingers towards the building, gesturing to himself and then making a chopping motion. His men frowned, unhappy with his decision but following orders as they had been taught to do, and sat back as Treville and his lieutenant crept into the building._

_They met little resistance as they entered the shade of the building, eyes adjusting to the dim light. They crept towards the wooden stairs and Treville pressed a finger to his lips, jerking his head upwards to the second floor where they could hear the muffled noises of men talking. It was difficult to avoid making any noise on the stairs, boots clumping as they climbed, the next landing had three doorways. The first opened up into a deserted bedroom, clothes draped across all available surfaces, the second housed four heavily armed men who were stationed in various positions with two staring out the windows. Finally the third room was home to the young man they were searching for, Rene was laid prostrate on the wooden floorboards, hands secured behind his back by rough hemp rope and face obscured by unruly curls falling across his face._

_The two men tiptoed cautiously along the corridor, desperate to avoid alerting the other men to their presence, and breathed a sigh of relief as they crossed the threshold of the third room. Treville brushed the hair back from his forehead and hissed as his hand came into contact with the tacky feel of blood that was flowing at an alarming rate from a gash along his mans’ hairline. Tearing a strip off his uniform, he wound it tightly around Rene’s head over the gash, it immediately becoming saturated with liquid._

_“Jones, get him out of here. I’ll take the men you just get him back to safety.” Without waiting for a response, he strode from the room and took up position outside the second doorway._

_Jones resigned himself to following the orders, scooping his brother in arms up and trusting his Captain to cover him, rushed down the stairs and out into the arms of the waiting men who immediately rushed the wounded man off for treatment._

Treville shook his head, eyes coming back into focus as he dragged himself from his memories. Everything went a little bit fuzzy after that moment, he had managed to defeat the four men, goodness knows how because he surely didn’t remember. He had been left with a bullet wound to the shoulder and had spent two weeks convalescing at a battlefield hospital with absolutely no news of his team or his men until he was released. By that time, Rene had been discharged and had left the army with absolutely no means of contacting him. He himself had left not two months later, rejoining the team of fire fighters who had been a part of his team before he was called up for military service.

“Rene?” Treville breathed in shock, “is that really you?”

“Captain Treville!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that’s as much as I can write at the moment. I hope this clears up the whole Treville confusion and satisfies all questions! Let me know what you think, and if there’s anything you’d like to see. Please read and review, thank you. :D


	4. Memory is a strange thing

Athos and Porthos shared a confused glance as the two other occupants of the room engaged in some strange version of a Mexican standoff. Treville having stood abruptly from his chair but aborted any further movement, standing with his legs pressed against the chair and one hand with fingertips braced on the smooth surface of his desk.

Aramis had taken one step forward away from the disturbingly comforting warmth of Athos’ side, the familiar face of his army commander finally slotting together within his mind as the final puzzle piece was found beneath the settee, covered in cobwebs that he had subconsciously placed there out of sight. Hearing that familiar strong, deep voice calling out his name, the name he had shucked with all desperation once he had returned to Paris, was all it took to catapult him back to that day in the dusty desert.

He shook his head to dispel the unwelcome memories that surged up to greet him like a tide and threatened to suck him under. A hand landed on his shoulder and he smiled reassuringly at Athos, deciding it was a moot point now to be shocked or scared by the sudden connection between them, he simply accepted it.

“Rene” Treville breathed again, the stone statue impression melting from his limbs as he rounded the desk and approached the other young men in the room, “I can’t believe it’s really you”

He was known for his ability to pull an inscrutable mask over his face with only a moment’s notice, yet at finding a man he had thought never to see again, he found he had no control over his traitorous features. Tears were prickling at the back of his eyes, a lump blocking his throat uncomfortably and bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.

Aramis looked a little alarmed at such a display of emotion from the usually taciturn man and glanced towards Athos for help. Despite having been close to his commanding officer in the service, much more so than any other men under his command, it had been a number of years since they had interacted and he was no longer sure how to behave.

He stiffened in shock and blinked bemusedly, his cheek was pressed firmly against the slightly rough surface of a plaid shirt and warm arms were wrapped around him. A large, strong hand cupped the back of his head, thumb stroking gently behind his ear and over his curls, while the other gripped him firmly around the waist.

“Rene” Treville breathed for what felt like the millionth time, pressing a light kiss to his mess of curls with trembling lips, “thank heavens, thank heavens! You’re alright”

Slowly, as if afraid the man who had been the closest thing to a father he had ever had would disappear once more, he wrapped his own arms around the older man. Clutching fistfuls of shirt tightly he clung to him and pressed his face into his neck and let the tears fall. “Captain”

Porthos lent down next to Athos and whispered quietly “do you have any idea what exactly is going on right now?”

“Not a clue” Athos murmured back with a small quirk of his lips, observing the scene with critical blue eyes “but I would think it would be obvious that there is some emotional reunion going on here my friend”

“And to think I just stumbled upon him in the streets, yet he turns out to be some long lost acquaintance of Treville” Porthos chuckled in amusement, nudging Athos with a shoulder and watching him stumble.

“Okay now I’m getting a little bit bored” Porthos muttered about fifteen minutes later when the men had yet to release each other.

“Where is your sense of compassion” Athos teased nudging him in the ribs “empathy?”

“No he has got a point” Aramis laughed wetly as he reluctantly pulled away from the warm embrace of his ex Captain and wiped at his eyes harshly with the back of his hand. He felt a flush building in his cheeks and averted his eyes from the assessing gazes of the other men.

It seemed to finally dawn on Treville what exactly had brought his old soldier to darken his doorstep after all these years and cuffed him round the ear with a brusque movement.

“Ow” Aramis exclaimed, hand shooting up to cup his ear in pain. “What was that for?”

“For being stupid, young man” the older man scolded “what on earth were you thinking!”

Athos strode in between the two and raised his hands in supplication, “as much as I can understand a desire for answers, now is not exactly the time”

“The grouch is right” Porthos added with a crooked grin that created dimples in his cheeks “you’re tired and he’s practically shaking” he jerked his head towards Aramis.

“Right, I think now would be the time for a tactical retreat”

They all nodded at Athos’ suggestion and made haste to tidy up the mess they had somehow managed to create in Treville’s office, their mere presence somehow enough to bring a whirlwind of disaster to a room. Finally with his briefcase full to bursting with paperwork that would need his signature before the end of the week, they all traipsed from the room and back down the stylish corridors of Ninon’s library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My exam is tomorrow (screaming) so this chapter is a little bit shorter than the rest. Once that’s done I should be able to write longer chapters :D Please let me know what you think of this and I hope the next bit will be up soon, thanks for sticking with me!


	5. Hard to breathe

_Sand was swirling through the air, converging in clumps that seemed to have a mind of their own, forming into grotesque creatures that his dazed eyes trailed distantly. He could barely breathe through the sickly cloying air, the sun was beating down on him and he could swear it was almost 100 degrees. Even having spent time in Spain, his skin was blistering and prickling painfully under the assault and he wanted nothing more than to drag his protesting body into the shade, any shade that he could find in this godforsaken desert. He moaned low in his throat as he coughed against the dryness in his throat, digging his fingernails into the soft sand beneath him and dragging himself across the ground._

_“Marsac” he called, breaking off into another hacking cough “Marsac are you here?”_

_His arms shook terribly, sweat dribbling down the side of his face and dampening his t-shirt where it clung to his skin and he narrowly avoided planting his face in the gritty unpleasantness. It was a nightmare to remove sand from a beard. He distantly recognised that something thicker than water was marking his forehead, which would explain the dull thumping in his head although he wouldn’t be surprised if dehydration was playing a part in that. Frowning Aramis cast his mind back through the events of the previous morning to try and prise the memory of what cracked him over the head from the quagmire of his mind._

_“Marsac” he called again, voice cracking and trailing off._

_A shadow fell over him where he lay spread-eagled on the sand, body relaxing in relief at the respite from the sun; he peered blearily up, finding it difficult to see with the sun flaring like a halo around the newcomer._

_“Marsac aint comin darlin” a low voice drawled and a face swam into focus above him, all sharp angles and dark hair with eyes hidden by dark sunglasses, “you’ll have to make do with me’_

_The next moment he found himself dazed and dizzy once again after a cuff to the head and rough hands securing his hands together tightly behind him with rough rope._

_“Wha” he slurred in confusion blinking slowly up at his captor, before he was roughly dragged to his feet and shoved in the small of his back to force him into movement._

_As he reached standing, his eyes widened in shock and horror, legs folding beneath him and he would have been reacquainted with the ground rather rapidly if it hadn’t been for the strangers vice like grip on his arms. The scene stretched out in a gruesome tableau before him, sand stained red from a river of blood flowing from the veins of his comrades as they lay sprawled before him like a child’s toys that they had become bored with._

_Acid surged violently up in his throat, waves of nausea rolling like a violent sea in his stomach as he stood frozen in place, bloody maws gaping open in his friends throats where they had been neatly slit. Army uniforms were ripped, torn, stained and even burnt in places and he held his breath as he named every single one of the faces staring sightlessly at the sky, each one like a punch in the gut._

_“What happened here?”_

_“Oh my dear Aramis wouldn’t you love to know, but all that’s important is that it’s your fault, and you’re going to tell us all we want to know” the man smiled slow and satisfied, a manic glint shining through and Aramis shivered at the madness he saw there “let’s have some fun”_

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Aramis shot upright like a bullet, thin bed sheet wrapped around his limbs like a straightjacket, sweat drenching his body and breath coming hard and fast in panic. His chest was heaving faster and faster and his throat was tightening up in panic, the room began to swim and fade away and he distantly heard the buzz of voices. A burning set in within his chest as he fought to pull in air, and he panicked even more, hands scrabbling at the bed sheets.

A hand pried his away from its death grip upon the fabric, uncurling his fingers from the fist they had formed and pressing it against a firm chest. A steady beating thrummed away beneath his fingertips and he found himself moving through the air as he was manhandled to rest against another firm chest and he spared a moment to marvel at the ridiculous muscle mass of these two men before the issue of breathing returned to the forefront of his mind.

A deep baritone slowly filtered its way through the mist in his mind, forming into words as black spots and sparks of light began to burst before his eyes.

“Aramis, just breathe you’re alright. Feel my chest moving, in and out slowly come on now, breathe with me”

Ever so slowly he felt air begin to filter into his lungs, the raging inferno dying down to an uncomfortable but more manageable burn, finally able to breathe. Gasping, choking noises still issued from his mouth as it gaped open to drag in air, but the slow and steady movements of a sturdy chest beneath his began to calm him. The steady thumping of a heartbeat beneath his fingers was comforting and finally a large rush of air whooshed into his lungs and he slumped bonelessly against whoever was holding him securely, sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and chest heaving.

“That’s it, you’re fine, just like that” the murmur in his ears carried on in a soothing litany of comforting words and a strong hand pushed his hair back from his face and lingered gently on his brow.

With a frustrating amount of effort he prized his eyes open into slits and peered blearily at Porthos and Athos, the former whose chest he was lounging against and the latter who had his hand pressed to his chest. Huffing slightly with exertion he attempted to struggle out of the secure hold, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at this situation. There was a reason he always tried to avoid falling asleep at night, and why he lived alone where no one would bear witness to this.

Porthos tightened his arms around the slight man’s chest as he felt him begin to pull away, and shot a meaningful glance across at Athos.

“Are you with us?” cultured tones met his ears and Aramis slowly swivelled his head to face Athos and nodded slightly, mind still focussed on drawing air into bruised lungs. “Good, you just keep breathing you’ve had a panic attack but everything will be just fine.

After a few moments of silence, Athos levered himself to his feet and stretched pressing a hand to his lower back, “I am going to get you a glass of water and fetch the Captain, then you are going to tell us how you two know each other. I’m guessing it has something to do with what just terrified you to the point of suffocation so you need to get that off your chest.” With that he had strolled out of the room, leaving Aramis to allow his eyes to slide closed in exhaustion, relaxing into the warmth of the man behind him and the strong hand that began to massage his chest, breath coming even easier as a result.

Not two minutes later and Athos had returned with a tray of drinks balanced precariously and Treville trailing behind him. “Rene” Treville exclaimed in exasperation, moving to sit on the bed beside the younger man and wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in to rest against his chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to worry you” Aramis rasped as best as he could, “and to be honest I had hoped this was over with, even after so many years the memories fail to fade as they should”

Treville’s face creased in anguish and he reached one hand up to tug at his hair, “I am so sorry son, you should never have been left to deal with all of this alone. Even the strongest man would crumple under the burden you carry on those narrow shoulders”

Aramis gave a wry smile to his former Captain and gratefully accepted the mug of warm tea that Athos offered, inhaling deeply the steam floating off the top.

“I think that you should tell us what happened” Athos paused, carefully considering his words “I don’t mean to pry, but you need to share the burden you carry and frankly I’d like to help.”

Raising the mug to his lips, Aramis took a sip, humming at the sweetened tea that slipped over his tongue and gestured with a sweep of his arm and a flourishing curl of his hand for Treville to be his guest and begin with his portion of the sad tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I managed to get another chapter finished for you guys! Next time the all elusive story is revealed, expect much angst and much tears people. Please read and review and thank you all for your positive feedback on my stories :D


	6. The Story

"It was about thirty years ago now that I joined the army, before that I was a fire fighter. You obviously were already aware of this Porthos" the larger man gave a nod of confirmation, his first meeting with Treville had been in his capacity as a fireman "I read an article about the fire damage caused by bombs and I felt compelled to do something, saving people from fire here was rewarding and I could never regret it but I wanted more. It sounds ridiculously self centred when I put it like that" he laughed bitterly "I like to think I grew up in between, spent my time running drills, saving lives and taking risks. It made me simultaneously favoured and despised by my superiors, caused a lot of paperwork you understand. Eventually they just gave up and promoted me, so I had to deal with my own lots of paperwork and irritating subordinates."

"I was the most irritating of the irritating"Aramis smirked weakly, sketching a half hearted salute to his Captain.

"Yes indeed you were" Treville agreed in exasperation "I was appointed Captain of the biggest bunch of misfits I have ever had the honour of meeting, Rene here was one of them, along with his partner Marsac"

A strangled moan was drawn from Aramis' lips at the sound of that all too familiar name, teeth sinking viciously into his bottom lip, beads of blood welling up from puncture wounds. Without a moment's hesitation, Athos stretched across and gently extricated his lower lip from the clutches of his teeth with his thumb, swiping away the blood. Wide brown eyes fixed him with a stare of absolute shock, brought back to the present by the contact and the warm, strong hand enveloping his with a comforting squeeze.

Observing the men he liked to think of as his boys, Treville carried on with his story, content that they would look after each other.

"We were sent to the front lines, and I would go as far as to say we were the expendables. All the impossible missions that they didn't expect teams to come back from, we got handed and completed, defying the odds every time. The biggest thorns in my side were you Rene, and your partner" learning from his blunder, he moderated his speech to avoid mentioning the taboo name.

"Why were they so bad?" Athos queried, seeming genuinely intrigued, having known Treville for a decent stretch of time and not having heard any of this story.

"I think the more apt question would be in what way weren't we so bad" Aramis laughed softly, shaking his head. "There is little I regret more than my behaviour at that point, we were little shits"

"Don't be so hard upon yourself son, you did what you believed was right and there is no shame in that" Treville rebuked him softly, â€œto be honest I do exaggerate your antics quite a bit, most of the time it was a pleasure to serve with you."

A contemplative silence fell upon the group of men.

"One day we were given the most dangerous mission of them all, an armed militia had taken a group of schoolchildren hostage and we were to go in and extract them with the lowest death toll possible. I sent a team of twenty two of my best men, this one included, to camp a couple of miles away, complete some reconnaissance and move in at my command." Treville paused, face pale to take a fortifying breath, "somehow they found out my men were there, slaughtered twenty of them in their sleep."

"I took a blow to the head and was senseless for hours, it left Marsac on his own to deal with being added to the list of hostages and being tortured while I just lay there" Aramis spat bitterly, interrupting the Captain's monologue.

"It was a little more than a simple blow to the head" Treville argued, "Aramis, they cracked your skull, no one could have expected you to be in a fit state to do anything."

"Yes they could" Aramis roared, face flushing with rage as he rocketed to his feet "If I hadn't been lying like a useless piece of rubbish on the floor then Marsac wouldn't be and I wouldn't see them every time I close my eyes, their blood splattered everywhere!"

"None of this is your fault Rene!" Treville reiterated firmly, calmly maintaining eye contact with the younger man. "Those men took you by surprise and they were psychopathic, it was two weeks before my team were able to locate you and bust you out, by that time Marsac had been tortured and disappeared."

Aramis if possible, paled even further "two weeks, it, it's not possible! It was only two days at the most Captain!"

"It is very possible son, I said you had a serious head injury. We pulled you out and you were placed in recovery, by the time I recovered from my own injuries you had been discharged. I tried to find you but you had disappeared off the face of the earth."

Athos adjusted his grip on their new friend's arm, gently guiding him down to collapse in a nearby chair before his shaky knees collapsed from beneath him.

"Of course you couldn't find me, I changed my name and discharged myself as soon as possible, I just wanted to disappear" Aramis whispered, glancing briefly to the side as Athos settled beside him and casually scooted closer to press their shoulders together in support.

"I can understand that desire very well" Athos murmured in his deep, calming tone "but you don't have to anymore."

"So what are your plans for the evening boys?" Treville asked the men as a whole, beginning to shuffle self consciously through his papers, gathering them to dump into his chaotic drawers.

"Well after that bombshell" Porthos chuckled awkwardly, clapping a hand on Athos' shoulder "I think the only thing we're fit for is going home, collapsing on the settee and having a cup of tea"

"I think that's a cracking idea" Treville agreed, clapping his hands and pushing himself abruptly to his feet.

In mutual agreement they hoisted Aramis to his feet and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, one on each side to support him as they made their way out of the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and the very basic chapter but I hope you still like it. The next chapter should be a bit more detailed and with more hurt comfort. :D


	7. A Phone Call

“Oh crap” Athos cursed from where he was precariously perched on the arm of the settee, glaring pensively at his mobile phone screen.

 

“What is it?” Porthos couldn’t contain his curiosity, Athos was not the usual culprit when it came to resorting to swearing, as he glanced over at his friend, he couldn’t prevent his eyes from straying down to their newest addition to the family, fast asleep.

 

“My awful family is descending upon us like vultures once more, ready to pick away at my life, judge my choices and just be generally rude and obnoxious”

 

“When you say your family…” the larger man murmured, moving over to peer over Athos’ shoulder and read the text for himself.

 

“Both my parents, Tommy and his girlfriend too”

 

“Oh… oh I see”

 

“What’s so bad about your family?” a new voice entered the conversation and the two turned as one. Aramis was peering blearily at them, rubbing tiredly at his eyes from where he had curled himself up to lean against the cushions and Athos’ leg on the arm.

 

Ruffling the younger’s hair gently, Athos flashed him a rare wry smile. He knew this would be a difficult subject for himself and Porthos both, goodness knew his parents had given his best friend as much grief as they had him. They were bigoted, homophobic horrors.

 

“Let’s just say we don’t get along very well, never have and never will”  
  
“That’s the understatement of the century” Porthos snorted

 

“When will they get here?” Aramis pushed himself upright and began to wake himself up properly “I’ll get out of your hair the day before so you can prepare, don’t people usually clean when family comes to visit?”

 

With a melodramatic flourish, Porthos flung himself to his knees before the younger man, sobbing harshly into his arms. “You can’t leave me alone with them!” he bawled, grabbing his knees and shaking him slightly “you know what it’s like living with one Athos, don’t desert me to the tender mercies of three of them!”

 

“Don’t.EVER.Compare me to my parents” Athos’ tone was murderous and his stare could have sliced through even the hardest of concrete, so intensely was he glaring at his friend. “Not even in jest”

 

“Sorry Ath”

 

A warm hand covered his where it lay clenched into a tight fist on the cushion of the settee, it was only then as it calmed, that he realised he was so tense it was actually vibrating with the force. He raised his head and was caught by the deep soulful brown of Aramis’ eyes as he stared at him with compassion and understanding.   


“I’m sure you’re nothing like your parents, I understand the desire to distance yourself from the shadow of your ancestors”  

 

“Okay now we’re all getting much too maudlin” Porthos exclaimed, clapping his hands together and rising to his feet in one smooth motion, joints popping alarmingly. “and you mister” he declared pointing emphatically at Aramis “are not going anywhere, no matter how many devious plans you come up with to escape”

 

“Ah so you admit you are keeping me hostage?” he joked as a tired smile lit up the worn edges of his face.

 

“No, you are free to leave whenever you want, we would never hold you here against your will.” Was Athos’ forceful response “We will stop you leaving when we can tell that it’s not really what you want, but you just feel as if you are imposing, understood?”

 

Aramis couldn’t keep the startled expression that flitted across his face at the older man’s words, it had been many years since any people had the ability see straight through his words to the genuine meaning hidden behind his words. In fact, the last had been when his mother had just been in a car accident and Aramis had turned down offers of a drink and seeing what pretty woman they could pick up at the local bar. Marsac had immediately known that his excuse of a migraine had been a fabrication and followed him as he slouched back to his tent on the outskirts of the camp, barging his way past the flap and throwing himself down carelessly on the bunk. A scarily in-depth conversation followed and having discovered Aramis’ persecution complex, Marsac proceeded to give him a solid whack around the head every time his thoughts went down a dark and dangerous laneway.

 

He nodded dazedly as a large hand was waved before his face to gain his attention.

 

“Right that’s it, food” Porthos declared as he levered both men to their feet and practically bounded into the kitchen, banging open and rifling through the cupboards in search of anything even partially edible. A bad habit that Athos and he had picked up was becoming so absorbed in their work that all else faded into insignificance, more often than not that meant they were distressingly low on supplies. This was especially upsetting for a man such as Porthos, for whom food was the most important part of life, beginning to get anxious when he couldn’t find what he wanted.

Not too many minutes later, he emerged from the depths of cupboards with a victorious cry, clutching a packet of noodles to his chest and a packet of biscuits in the other hand that he lobbed haphazardly in their direction.

 

“Athos, tea. Aramis, biscuits and I’ll deal with the stir fry”

 

Receiving their orders with matching expressions of amusement and shakes of their head in exasperation, the two abandoned the kitchen with hands wrapped around warming mugs of tea.

 

“Come Aramis” Athos murmured, drawing the younger man gently by the hand into the other room “it’s pointless to even try to hold a conversation with Porthos when he’s cooking. I thought you and I could have a conversation while we wait”

 

The younger man scrunched up his nose, sinking onto the bed and tucking one leg underneath him. “A conversation about what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we will find out what it is in the next chapter! Sorry for the delay in updating all of my stories guys, I started university and life has been so hectic! Hopefully from now on I’ll be able to update much more regularly :D

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea that struck me during a boring ferry crossing and since I didn’t have access to my December Desolation chapters I just started writing and well, didn’t stop! Please let me know what you think of this and I’ll keep writing! :D


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